


isn't it just like the sea?

by strictlybecca



Category: As the World Turns
Genre: Alternate Universe, Everyone Thinks They're Together, M/M, Meet-Cute, Misunderstandings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-01
Updated: 2016-01-01
Packaged: 2018-05-10 19:01:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5597179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strictlybecca/pseuds/strictlybecca
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It seemed so foolish to invest so deeply in the course of an hour or so, but Luke was – well, he was a writer. Foolish endeavors of the heart were his specialty.</p>
            </blockquote>





	isn't it just like the sea?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Valenti1965](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Valenti1965/gifts).



> this is a secret santa nuke_anon fic for valenti1965 - who offered up a bunch of awesome prompts and asked for some nuke fluff, which i gladly endeavored to write.
> 
> i chose: _Luke and Noah are seated together in a restaurant and everyone thinks they are a couple already (au)_ which i enjoyed tackling unreasonably and i hope fits what you wanted!
> 
> happy holidays and happy new year!

******one.**

Noah’s preferred place for morning work was _packed_.

He sighed and supposed it was inevitable. He’d thought he was safe from descending college students since he’d chosen a neighborhood a fairly inconvenient walk from the nearest university. Only recently had he learned that his neighborhood had a high concentration of schools, and therefore had more teachers per capita than Noah thought was probably legal. _Teachers work weekends just like filmmakers_ , Noah reminded himself, and nudged the front door to Ecco open with his elbow anyway.

Ecco was more restaurant than café, but it had more outlets than Noah could count and their cookies were the closest things to heaven Noah had ever had. He came often enough to get that half beat of a smile of recognition from the waiters, but never enough to build any real relationships.

That seemed to be the name of the game for Noah in this town: move to a city where he didn’t know anyone and… proceed to spend the next few months still not really knowing anyone.

_Check_. Nailed that one.

He had his work, which he loved with an intensity that worried his sister Ameera – but Ameera worried about everything, so Noah mostly ignored it. He had his apartment, which was decent and – best of all – just _his_. He had his neighborhood, with hipster coffee places, a ridiculously huge Goodwill, and the best _pupusas_ he’d ever had. (And considering his status as an international army brat, he had pretty high standards.)

But friends were a work in progress. _Or perhaps_ , Noah thought ruefully, _more like a work never started._ There were people at work who seemed decent, but none who Noah had felt good about striking up a conversation about something _other_ than lighting and aperture speed.

“Just one,” he said to the hostess at the front, whose bright red lipstick looked great against the warm brown of her skin - but since he’d never managed to ever get the hang of idle compliments, he kept his reaction to a tight, impersonal smile.

“Okay,” she said, skimming her eyes across the crowd of the restaurant behind her, before casting a glance across the table seating chart on her podium. “Do you mind sharing a table?” 

When Noah assured her he didn’t, she beckoned him after her and they carefully maneuvered through to a table against the wall in the back.Two seats, one filled, one half discarded sandwich, one carelessly open laptop and one – _well_.

One ridiculously beautiful man.

“Hi sir,” the hostess said with a winning smile that automatically made Noah start nodding in agreement before she’d even said anything. “I know I mentioned it was a possibility that you might have to share this morning-”

“No problem,” the man said, looking up from where he was intently squinting at his laptop, thick dark rimmed glasses drawing attention to warm, brown eyes. Those eyes settled on Noah, and Noah felt his stomach twist pleasantly as they seemed to consider him carefully. There was a quirk of a smile that Noah felt his own lips respond to before permission from his brain. “I think I can make room for one more.” The beautiful man cast his own winning smile up at the hostess. “But no more,” he declared, with just a hint of put-upon drama. “One is the limit of my generosity!” The hostess laughed appropriately, whereas Noah felt like finding his seat soon before his knees melted out from under him.

“You’re the picture of charity,” she assured him, before gesturing Noah to the chair, which he settled into with relief. “Can I get you something to drink?” she directed at Noah, who nodded gratefully, glad for a question he could answer without higher brain function.

“Coffee, black. Please, thank you.” he added belatedly, remembering at the last minute his own ability to be a polite member of society.

“Hi,” the beautiful man said once the hostess slipped away. He offered his hand and Noah took it, offering a stilted smile that Ameera always scolded him for. _Try smiling like a genuinely happy human being_ , she’d say affectionately, tugging at his ear. _You have a nice one that most people would be fooled by._ “I’m Luke. I guess we’ll be table spouses for the morning.”

There was a beat of silence where Noah was desperately grateful for the dryness of his throat because there wasn’t any spit to choke on.

Luke cast him a shade of a glance that Noah couldn’t read, but figured was a kind of measuring up. _Well_ , it just so happened that Noah did well with challenges. He dusted off a decent smile and tugged his laptop out of his bag in one movement. “As long as we both shall live?” Noah intoned dryly.

Luke huffed a laugh. “Or until one of us breaks and has to go to the bathroom only to return to find their stuff gone and their chair used as a footstool,” Luke responded cheerfully.

_Gorgeous. Smart. Charming with just a hint of bratty mischief_ , Noah listed with a mental grimness he felt to his very toes.

He was in _so_ much fucking trouble.

“So, do I get a name to go with the spouse, or will that come later?”

 

 

**two.**

His table partner offered his name and a rueful smile in the same breath. “Noah,” he said and Luke bit his lip to keep from falling over himself to keep their gentle flirtation/introduction/whatever-the-hell it was going.

“Nice to meet you Noah,” he said, with a little less of the playfulness from before and a little more of a sincerity he hoped was evident. He caught Noah’s gaze and kept it for a second longer than he would have usually, before glancing back down at his computer.

“Nice to meet you Luke,” Noah responded carefully, and when Luke looked up again, Noah had a little curve of a smile that Luke wanted to taste. “I’ll let you get back to your work.”

And even though Luke could have put off writing this chapter of his novel for, oh, the _rest of time_ – especially to talk to Noah – Luke dutifully turned back to his laptop screen and fell back into the story of Infinity Riley, teenage girl, space detective, well-practiced universe savior, and desperately in love with her best friend Laura.

_The Infinity Ring_ series had a fairly large following – he was no JK Rowling, but Luke was pretty happy with his lot in life. He wrote books that his siblings loved (he knew they did because Faith was merciless and would never lie to him to boost his ego and Natalie and Ethan didn’t know a lie from a hole in a wall yet) and that got to tackle issues that Luke cared about deeply. He got to write about a time in his life that he had felt the most alone and scared and _wrong_ , and make it something safe and supportive for young people going through the same exact thing.

Usually that thought settled Luke’s bones during the moments he felt like he might jump right out of his skin, but something about having Noah sitting across from him, brow furrowed in concentration, his intensity making his blue eyes seem impossibly bluer – well.

Nothing very much would settle Luke while having _that_ kind of view.

Luke almost broke again and struck up another conversation when Noah ordered a pretty boring bowl of soup _and_ an enormous stack of cookies that seemed unreasonably comical when they arrived together – but he just sent Noah a look with a raised eyebrow which got him a stupidly charming blush in response. _Stop it, stop it, stop it,_ Luke chanted to himself, forcing himself to tap out another awkward sentence of dialogue that he knew already would have to be edited to shreds. He felt fidgety in a way he hadn’t since middle school, something sparking under his skin every time he chanced a glance across the table at Noah. It seemed so foolish to invest so deeply in the course of an hour or so, but Luke was – well, he was a writer. Foolish endeavors of the heart were his specialty.

Halfway through their morning, their waiter’s shift ended and they both closed out their original checks in order to tip her appropriately. Luke didn’t mean to spy (he did) but he spotted Noah’s 20% plus tip and immediately felt even better about his impossible infatuation with the beautiful man across from him.

Their new waitress popped up a few minutes later and took new orders for cups of coffee – Luke’s a frothy, be-whipped and be-sprinkled monstrosity and Noah’s a standard plain black – and returned promptly. “No rush on your working date, gentlemen,” their waitress assured them, as they both took their first sips of caffeine with a sigh. “It’s finally slowed down and the lunch rush won’t be for hours.”

_Work date_ , Noah mouthed slowly and Luke cast him a wide-eyed glance, feeling those sparks under his skin develop into full blown fireworks for a moment. Noah stared back for a second, and there was an awkward beat of silence, before the waitress continued on, like she didn’t need a response from either of them.

“My boyfriend and I do these date-and-work things too,” she said, her tone one of commiseration and understanding. “You want to spend time together, but there’s still so much to do,” she said, rolling her eyes, like she had no idea the panic she was inspiring. “People are too busy nowadays,” she finished with a flourish of her pen, jabbing it into the air like she was punctuating a point.

“Too busy,” Luke managed to get out around the knot in his throat and the pin pricks of heat along his arms and legs. He made a face that he hoped approximated agreement and was rewarded with the waitress giving them another smile and sailing off.

“Well,” Noah said into the awkward silence that followed her departure, and then immediately looked like he regretted saying anything.

“Table spouses,” Luke reminded him, summoning his best smile. The sight of it seemed to help Noah find his own, and he watched as some of the tension leaked from the painful set of Noah’s shoulders. Two men, eating together, sitting with each other for several hours – it made sense that the waitress would assume, Luke told himself. He didn’t let himself settle into the thought though, because before too long he would start imagining what it could be like to have Noah across from him on a date – what they might order, what they might say, what Noah’s lips might feel like on his. _Stop_ , Luke said sternly. _Just table spouses._

“For richer or poorer, til bathroom breaks do us part,” Noah agreed quietly, that soft curve a smile returning – the one Luke so desperately wished he could ask about. Did Noah smile like that at everyone? Was this a smile for Luke and Luke alone? Would Noah mind, perhaps, if Luke spent the foreseeable future trying to put that gentle expression on Noah’s face?

From the way Noah kept sneaking looks over the top of his coffee cup at him, Luke thought that maybe the answer to that last question might be exactly the one he’d been hoping for.

 

**three.**

They were there at least another hour before Noah finally broke and and put an earbud in to try and salvage a horrific rough edit that was being seriously considered by one of his bosses. He stuck the cord of the other earbud between his lips to free up both hands to quickly jot a note down when he heard a quiet, choked noise from across the table. He glanced up and Luke was staring at him with slightly widened eyes, before blinking rapidly and opening and closing his mouth a few times. Noah raised a quizzical eyebrow and Luke seemed to pull himself together enough to say something.

“I’d say music production but…. I don’t see it,” he said, tapping his pen against the edge of Noah’s laptop. Noah blinked at him in confusion for a moment before Luke’s meaning became clear.

“Not music,” Noah said, tugging his remaining earbud out and swiveling his computer to show Luke the editing software and frames he was working on. “Film. I’m a filmmaker."

“Oh!” Luke said, and his eyes brightened as he learned forward to peer closely at Noah’s screen. Noah tried not to preen under Luke’s scrutiny, but he couldn’t help but lean forward as well and let their fingertips brush as he watched Luke watch his screen. “Storytelling,” Luke said simply, looking up at Noah from beneath his lashes, beaming brightly. “I’m kind of all about storytelling.”

_I’m kind of all about you,_ Noah nearly said, Luke’s smile stunning his usual careful nature into submission, but before he could speak, there was a voice at their elbows.

“Um, hi, sorry, I- uh, um, I just spotted you from over there,” the teenage girl said, staring at Luke like he was the second coming – Noah sympathized, but figured she probably wasn’t head over heels for Luke because of warm brown eyes and good natured snarking. “And, uh, um, you’re Luke Snyder, right?” Noah glanced at Luke, who was smiling warmly, kindly up at the young girl – nothing like the small sweet smiles and smirks he’d been slipping Noah, but clearly an expression of affection nonetheless.

“I am,” he said, shifting so that his entire focus was oriented on the young girl. “Are you an Infinity Ring fan?” The girl nodded so hard Noah thought her head might tumble off her shoulders.

“They’re my _favorites_ ,” The girl said fervently, fumbling for her backpack and tugging out a well worn copy of a book that Noah recognized from casual bookstore browsing and people watching. If Noah looked carefully enough, he could see the edges of gold letters reading ‘ _by Luke Snyder’_ on the book’s binding. “I was _just_ rereading _After and Beyond_ yesterday because – well,” she flushed a little, “I just really needed to re-read the scene in the holoport.” She shrugged a shoulder and looked a little embarrassed to have mentioned it.

Luke was just nodding and smiling, looking for all the world like there wasn’t a single place he’d rather be. “I totally understand,” he said, gesturing with one hand. “Sometimes you really just need to hear about two people caring about each other with no strings or catches. Infinity’s relationship with her sister is always really important for me to do right.”

“Yes!” The girl sighed, hugging her book to her chest. “And it’s always perfect.”

“Would you like me to sign your book?” Luke offered and the girl looked as if she might keel over right then and there. She handed it over and Luke dug in his messenger bag for a second before coming up with a silver sharpie and twirling it in his fingers. Noah couldn’t have looked away if he wanted to. “Always have to have one of these on hand for these black cover versions,” Luke was saying, “I love the look of them, but I can’t sign them in black, for sure.”

The girl – Lily, apparently, which was Luke’s mom’s name, so they chatted for another minute about that – picked up her signed book with a reverence that Noah didn’t even see in church services. “I’m so sorry about interrupting your date,” she said finally, shrugging her bookbag back onto her shoulders. “I just had to come talk to you, I just love your books so much.” Luke’s eyes darted to Noah, who quirked an eyebrow in response. _Again?_ Noah thought. He wished he could see he and Luke from a distance – he wondered about their body language, about how a film audience might see them on screen. He wondered if a casual observer could read his feelings from the tension in his shoulders, from the look in his eye when he watched Luke. _If so,_ Noah thought _, I don’t blame them for assuming._

“I’m always happy to talk about Infinity,” Luke reassured her, without addressing her assumption. The assumption that he and Noah looked like they were dating. The assumption that Noah would prefer to be reality. The assumption that sat between them, fragile and constant.“Have an awesome day, okay?” Lily nodded and practically danced away, heading back towards her table where her older sister was sitting, watching her with a bright smile on her face, looking fully prepared to do her due diligence as an older sibling and tease the hell out of her younger sister.

“Well,” Luke said, casting Noah another glance from under his lashes, this one making Noah’s mouth feel dry. “Sorry about that?”

Noah’s expression was all incredulity and affection. “So you’re all about storytelling,” Noah said dryly, picking up Luke’s sharpie and tapping it against the edge Luke’s laptop. Luke huffed a laugh and grabbed his sharpie back.

“I am,” he said primly, “It’s kind of my job.” Luke’s cheeks looked flushed, his expression half pride, half embarrassment. He ruffled his hair back into casual disarray, looking for all the world as if he was unconcerned with the fact that he was literally the most attractive human being Noah had ever met or known.

“I gathered. I know those books,” Noah said, casting a disbelieving glance after the girl. “Those are New York Times bestsellers.”

“Only for a few weeks,” Luke dismissed and Noah made a noise in outrage, which sent Luke into a curl of laughter.

“You are a New York Times best selling author,” Noah said slowly, tugging his laptop back across the table. He cast Luke a smirk with a confidence that was slowly shrinking in the face of his understanding of just how fantastic Luke really was. “Should I even be allowed to sit here with you?”

“Don’t you dare go anywhere,” Luke said, pointing his finger right at Noah, narrowing his eyes. “You agreed to be my table spouse for the foreseeable future, and that’s a binding contract.”

Noah felt a smile grow across his lips, slowly at first before it helplessly settled into what was probably an idiotic looking grin. “I guess my table spouse turning out to be terrifically and artistically successful is probably not cause for divorce,” he allowed with quirk of his lips, wishing he could tangle his fingers with Luke’s and pull him close, wishing he could figure out how to talk about even an iota of the stupid, goofy emotions swirling in his stomach – but anxiety and uncertainty soured the whole thing.

Noah had never been particularly brave, in his own opinion. His life had not been without risk certainly: financial risk, new career opportunities – all typical. But people were different; personal investment and those fragile, complex emotions that Noah usually ignored were _different_. And _Luke_ was different. Luke was a fantastically successful author, he was creative and smart and funny, he was witty and friendly and beautiful. Noah didn’t deny that he had his own decent features as a human being, but the chasm between he and Luke seemed insurmountable.

Noah didn’t typically get nice things and get to keep them - and Luke was the nicest of all nice things.

 

 

**four.**

Luke had decided: Noah was going to be his boyfriend. Oh, he knew it would probably take a few dates and some time, and obviously some interest on Noah’s side, and more than a little courage from him to get the ball rolling, but he was determined. He was _settled_. He was a Snyder, after all, and Snyders were about hard work and dedication and taking a chance on people they cared about. (He was also a Grimaldi, and Grimaldis were about getting what they wanted, damn the consequences.) When Luke settled on something, it was pretty damn settled.

Step one: _Ask Noah out._

And - here was the crux of the issue: Luke really, _really_ liked Noah. He was sweet and honest, with a sense of humor as dry as Lucinda’s martinis. He was intelligent, he was artistic (a _filmmaker_ , how _perfect_ could a guy get? Honestly, Luke was ten seconds from kissing him before they’d been interrupted) and most likely literally sculpted by the gods re: the whole perfect facial symmetry he had going on.

Luke fell for people and he fell hard; it was a terrible habit of his, but he couldn’t really help it. But _this_ , what he was feeling for Noah – it felt different. And he knew that to say that out loud would sound terribly naïve to anyone willing to listen, but Luke couldn’t find the words to describe it all yet. (Which, as a writer, was terribly frustrating.) There was something to Noah’s good-natured self-deprecation, to Noah’s deadpan expressions and eyes bright with amusement – that made Luke want to get to know him better.

Most of all, Luke wasn’t shy. It was hardly an issue for him to say whatever was on his mind to whoever was around him – _but_ he desperately wanted Noah to say yes. So, therefore, he had to figure out something a little better to say than just blurting out a demand for Noah to be his boyfriend.

“Hey,” Luke said, diving in before he lost his nerve. “D’you think-”

“Noah! Hey, I’ve never seen you here before!” A tall, blond, green-eyed literal heartthrob of a human being was crossing from a table in the corner towards theirs. Luke snapped his mouth shut as Noah glanced over, his expression perplexed for a second. It cleared a moment later, and Luke watched as Noah summoned a smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes.

“Dylan,” Noah said, the warm smile in place, “Good to see you, man.” He offered up a hand for a handshake and something in Luke relaxed briefly to see the bro-iness of it all - not at all like someone romantically interested in another, despite Dylan’s near inhuman beauty. “Yeah, this is my usual weekend work spot. D’you live around here?”

“Mmhmm,” Dylan the Ridiculously Attractive Human responded. “’Bout a ten minute walk, so not too far.Hey, I wanted to ask, are you going to be working on the Westinghouse film with Jack next month?”

“Oh! Yeah, were you going to try and get on the project?” Noah took a sip of his coffee, but didn’t move his gaze from Dylan’s face. Luke knew, because he was watching.

“Hopefully,” Dylan said, heaving a sigh more appropriate to a period drama than a conversation with a work colleague (in Luke’s humble opinion.) “You know I need some more acting credits on my resume. The modeling gig stuff isn’t cutting it for me anymore.” Dylan _the Literal Model_ shrugged his straight, broad shoulders and Luke sank a little lower in his chair, feeling his eyes narrow slightly as Noah nodded sympathetically.

“I’ll put in a good word, though my word’s not worth much yet,” Noah offered, shrugging and smiling self deprecatingly. Luke found himself sliding his hand towards Noah’s, wanting to lace his fingers with his and give a gentle squeeze in support, but caught himself at the last moment and wrapped his suddenly aimless palm around his coffee cup.

“I’d appreciate it,” Dylan said, a stunning smile stretching his lips, “Because even I know that’s not true – you might be new, but they respect the hell out of you there. Everyone listens when you talk.” Luke found Noah’s slight flush utterly charming and more than a little attractive, but he also was self aware enough to know he deeply resented the fact it was Dylan making Noah’s cheeks red.

Suddenly, Dylan’s gaze was pinned on Luke, who hoped his face looked appropriately polite, and held none of the jealousy that was souring his stomach. “I was going to say that you’ve got a great boyfriend here,” Dylan continued, talking to Luke, who had to put down his coffee to keep from spilling it in surprise and sudden onset awkwardness, “But honestly Noah,” Dylan turned back with a beam, “how the hell did you get such a hottie to date a film nerd like you?”

Luke sputtered. Noah sputtered.

“I- I do okay for myself,” Noah managed to get out after an awkward beat of silence, his smile tense, eyes darting between Luke and Dylan. Luke literally had no idea what to say – which happened to him very, _very_ rarely.

“Well obviously,” Dylan said, gesturing at Luke, “you locked _him_ down. Hi, I’m Dylan, by the way – I work with Noah.” He offered a grin and a hand to Luke, who shook it automatically, studiously not looking across the table at Noah.

“Luke,” Luke said, before letting the brave-but-stupid side of his brain takeover for a moment. “And I happen to like film nerds,” he said, smiling slightly, letting himself glance over at Noah, whose blue eyes seemed darker than they’d ever looked before. Noah blinked, before refocusing on Dylan, still standing at the edge of their table.

“Your flirting is painful to watch, Dyl,” Noah said, his smile still in place, but the crinkles around his eyes gone.

“I’m not going to actively hit on your boyfriend while you’re on a date with him, Noah,” Dylan laughed, “Just going to remind you how good you have it and then disappear and hope you still talk me up to Jack on Monday.”

Noah huffed a laugh and waved a hand at Dylan. “Your recommendation is secure, just – uh, leave us be. I’ll see you Monday, okay?”

“You got it, have a great weekend gentlemen!” And with that, Dylan the Model sailed back to his table.

There was a terribly awkward silence at the table for the next few minutes as both of them sipped their coffees and desperately worked not to look at one another.

“You like film nerds, huh,” Noah finally said into the silence, before making a face like he’d wished he’d jumped off a cliff rather than spoken aloud.

“No,” Luke responded slowly, “Just - just one.” He heaved a sigh and desperately wished for any measure of bravery that would get him through the next few minutes. “So, a lot of people think we’re dating. I think the universe might be telling us something,” Luke said bluntly, his want for Noah stepping in for his fled courage. He let his hand creep across the table to settle over Noah’s, Luke’s heart thumping wildly in his chest.

Noah’s gaze trained sharply on where their hands were connected and Luke was a millisecond from withdrawing – when Noah turned his hand over and laced their fingers together, a kind of wondering, awed smile quirking his lips. “And do you always listen to the advice of the universe?” he asked, blue eyes flickering up towards brown, amusement and relief clear in the gaze.

“Not usually,” Luke admitted, brushing his thumb gently along Noah’s, biting his lip to keep from grinning like a maniac. “But I’m willing to take constructive criticism if it gets me a date with you.”

Noah barked out a laugh, catching Luke’s hand more firmly in his own, looking completely unwilling to let go for anything – which was just fine with Luke. “I thought we were table spouses already,” Noah said, glancing meaningfully at the detritus of their morning spent working all around them.

“That was a temporary contract,” Luke countered, shifting forward in his seat, tucking his foot under him so he could get even closer to Noah. “Binding, but temporary. I want something a little more permanent.” The words were out before he could stop them – but he meant every single one of them. It was little better than an outright demand that Noah become his boyfriend, but Luke couldn’t regret it – not when Noah’s response was to lean in close with a wide grin.

“Permanent sounds good,” Noah said simply. He ducked his head and pressed a hardly-there kiss to the corner of Luke’s mouth, pulling back only to smile shyly. Luke let out a shaky breath, heart thumping even more ridiculously as he attempted to order his thoughts into a language recognizable by humans.

“Good,” Luke said breathlessly, when he finally managed it. “That’s really good.”

 

**five**.

Years later, when they made the spouse thing _really_ permanent, the kind of permanent you do in front of your friends and family and in your best clothes, Noah stared Luke right in the eyes and repeated after the minister. _Mostly_.

“…As long as we both shall live.” He paused, “Including bathroom breaks,” Noah added – and even though their friends and family looked on bemusedly, Luke laughed, and that’s all that mattered to him.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> title of the fic is from "just like the sea" by pigpen theatre company: _isn't it just like the sea?/ to come between you and me?_
> 
> happy holidays y'all!


End file.
